


A few shots

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [32]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunk Molly, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: Molly is drunk and starts a seduction attempt.





	A few shots

“I might have had a few shots.”  
Molly shrugs, the movement unbalancing her. Quickly she stretches out her arms, looking like a surfer, trying to steady her swaying body. After she succeeds, she smirks and straightens. Then she nods to the bed.   
“Let’s do this.”  
Sherlock’s eyes widen when she shrugs off her coat and pulls the shoes off her feet, hopping through the room like a rabbit.   
“Let’s do what?”  
Of course he knows what  _‘this’_  is. He’s trying to slow her down. His heart is hammering against his chest and his mouth has gone desert-dry.

But she doesn’t slow down. She keeps shedding clothes. Her socks fly through his bedroom, one landing on his lamp, the other landing on his shoulder. Next comes her colorful jumper. It knocks said lamp over.  
“Sex, Shellock. Can’t you see I’m shedudding…seducing you?”  
Sherlock narrows his eyes.   
Molly is making a very odd face now. Her eyebrows twitch up and down, then her eyes narrow and he wonders if she has trouble with her vision.   
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m giving you the look.”  
She wiggles her eyebrows and purses her lips.  
“What look?”  
“You know! The look!  _The_ look!”  
She has stopped undressing. Good.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”  
“Jess, you do! THE LOOK! You give it to me aaaall the time.”  
“Excuse me?!”  
What?! Of course he hasn’t! He’s been cautious as hell! He hardly ever thinks about sex with her…when she is present. Her little hand waves him off.   
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s okay! I want it, too. I just had to make sure you’re off the drugs. I don’t like the drugs. I don’t like you doing the drugs. No more drugs!”  
She points her finger at him and squints. He assumes she intended it to be a menacing glare.   
A second later she sways and does that surfer-thing again.   
“Is okay, Shellock. Now you’re clean. We can have sex now.”  
She gives him two thumbs up and winks.   
Her face is adorable sometimes.   
“Undress. It only works when you’re naked…Well, not really. You can have sex dressed. When you do a quickie, for example. One time Tom and I had sex in the lab. We didn’t get undressed there. No time. But it was still nice. The microscope poked me in the back, though…”  
Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and inwardly groaned.   
“Did you do it on my microscope?”  
“It’s not your microscope…but yeah.”  
“Remind me to bring disinfectant next time I come to Barts.”  
She waved him off again.  
“I already did, like eight times. It’s cleaner than it’s ever been.”  
“Good!”  
“Oh, stop being jealous. It’s over.”  
“I’m not jealous!”  
“Yes, you are!”  
“No!”  
She sticks out her tongue and he clenches his jaw.   
That’s when Molly’s eyes spot her coat on the floor.   
_Damn!_  
“Oh, right”, she mumbles and unbuttons her white blouse.   
Sherlock sighs and finally enters the room. He has been standing in the doorway during their entertaining conversation.  
“Stop it, Molly. You’re drunk.”  
“Not  _that_  drunk. I’m good.”  
With the tip of her tongue sticking out, she unbuttons the rest of her blouse and opens it with a loud  _‘tadaaa!_ ’.   
The black bra she is wearing is lovely. And yet…  
“We won’t have sex tonight, Molly”, Sherlock states firmly.   
The expression on Molly’s face turns into a big, tearful pout.  
“But I wanna!”  
The sight of her pushed up breasts is causing a reaction, so Sherlock gently cups her hands which are still holding her blouse, and closes it.   
“But I don’t.”  
She snorts and steps back, stumbling against the bed but catching herself.   
“Are you seriously telling me that you don’t wanna tap that?”  
Her arms are waving, her fingers pointing to her body.   
Sherlock bites his lip not to laugh.   
“Not while you are intoxicated”, he replies calmly.   
“AHA! I knew it! You wanna have sex with me! The great Sherlock Holmes wants to shag mousy Molly Hooper!”  
Sherlock rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest. He’s manoeuvred himself into a corner there. Denying it would not only be a lie, but would also hurt her. And he doesn’t want to find out what drunk Molly does when she’s hurt.   
“Why don’t you go to bed and sleep it off? We can talk tomorrow.”  
He gently pushes her in the direction of the bed.   
“But I wanna shag you!”  
The pout is back. Sherlock feels all warm inside.   
“Later.”  
“When?”  
“When you’re sober.”  
“Promise?”  
She looks up at him, her hands on his chest, playing with a button of his white shirt. He inwardly sighs. Why does she have to look at him like that? There has been a time when her eyes didn’t have this power over him. He wants to go back to this time. It was all so much easier back then…

…No. No, he really does not want to go back. He likes how it is between them now. Loves it, actually.

…He would love to kiss her now…

“Promise”, he finally agrees.

The smile she gives him sets his heart on fire.   
With a giggle she stands on her tiptoes and pecks his mouth.   
Her lips are wet and warm.   
Then she quickly pulls down her trousers. Sherlock tries not to look when she shrugs off blouse and bra and climbs into his bed only wearing her knickers. Emphasis on  _tries_.

He does look a bit.

Merely gathering anatomical references for his mind palace, he tells himself.

It is the worst lie he has ever told.

When she is under the covers she grins up at him. He can’t help but smile back.

“Tomorrow we’ll shag, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You promised.”  
“I know.”  
She giggles with delight and snuggles into his cushion.   
“We’ll have a lot of fun. I’m very bendy.”  
He gulps.   
Too many inappropriate pictures flood his head, so he decides to leave as quickly as possible.  
He is about to close the door when she calls him.  
“Hm?”   
He sticks his head back into the room. She looks at him, her eyes tired. She is hugging the second pillow.

“In case I forget…will you remind me?”  
He pauses.  
“Yes.”  
“Promise?”  
His heart aches.   
“Promise.”  
Molly doesn’t smile. She just closes her eyes and is asleep as soon as the door is closed.

~oOo~

His bedroom door opens with a creak. Sherlock straightens in his seat. His heart beats a little faster.

Footsteps.

“Good morning.”  
“Good morning.”  
He doesn’t look up from his microscope.   
“Coffee?”  
“That would be great.”  
“Help yourself.”  
She comes into view and his eyes hurry up to drink in her form. She is fully clothed again, minus the jumper. She has hung this over the chair together with her coat.   
Sherlock watches how she moves around in his kitchen. She certainly knows her way around it. She doesn’t mind the chemicals or the used beakers in the sink.

After she found a clean cup and poured some coffee into it, she turns around.   
His eyes are back on the microscope.  
A few minutes of silence pass.   
He wonders if she remembers. The answer follows after another, very long minute.  
“I didn’t make a complete arse of myself yesterday, did I?”  
“In what regard?”  
“I dunno…singing or dancing around your flat or something.”  
She doesn’t remember.   
His heart stops fluttering and sinks back to the place it belongs.  
“No. You were your usual self.”  
“Only half an arse, then.”  
“Yes.”  
They share a quick look. Sherlock smirks cheekily.   
She looks beautiful when she smiles.   
  


More silence. She remains in her spot by the sink while she sips her coffee. She inquires after his current experiment. There’s no way in hell he’s going to tell her that he’s staring at an empty slate. He makes something up. He’s clever like that.

“Well, I better get going. Toby’s going to be pissed that he didn’t get breakfast in time, so…bye, Sherlock. Thanks for letting me crush here.”  
“Hm.”  
His heart is pounding in his chest. It takes all his willpower to keep his eyes down as she takes her things and leaves.  
The sound of her feet walking down the stairs is ruining his mood. When the door falls close, he squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s an idiot.

And a liar.

He doesn’t deserve her.

 …

“You arse!”

Sherlock flinches and jumps out of his chair.   
She’s back.  
He hasn’t heard her come up.  
She looks furious.

“You promised!”  
  
Sherlock stiffens.   
“You’re such a liar! And an idiot! I don’t know why I put up with you! You, Sherlock Holmes, don’t deserve me!”  
He lets her yell. He welcomes her anger. It is much easier to handle than her pain. There is more shouting and he lets her shout, all the while unable to look anywhere but her.   
She looks sexy when she’s angry. He finds it very attractive, he can’t help it.  
“I never know where I am with you! One second you want me to leave and the next you give me your bedroom eyes again!”  
“I never did that!”  
Now he has to protest. He doesn’t give himself away. Never. He’s mastered the cool, aloof mask years ago.  
“You’re doing it right now!”  
His breath gets stuck in his throat.  
“I do not!”  
“Yes, you do! And I’m done with it! Either shag me or leave me alone!”

 

He shags her.

For hours.

Until she tells him to stop.

Every muscle in his body is sore.

But damn, it was worth it.

The way she smiles at him now, lying in his arms, naked, warm, tenderly kissing him…yeah, definitely worth it.

 

Molly didn’t lie.

She really is bendy.

And he loves it.

He loves her.

“Quite obvious, wasn’t it?”

That’s her reply when he whispers it into her ear.

Sherlock smirks and buries his head in her hair.

 

Molly Hooper is amazing.

And now she’s his.


End file.
